


Dreamer: Ascend

by Sunbeamkeys



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Considering Sburb game conventions, Gen, God Tier, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 17:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunbeamkeys/pseuds/Sunbeamkeys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Sburb player finds herself facing the terrifying process of becoming god tier.</p><p>TW: suicide, mentions of violence, cursing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreamer: Ascend

You are alone in a icy bottomless chamber in the center of Prospit. The only light is the pale blue glow of your laptop. You look down. A stone slab holds you suspended above the abyss.

He called it a quest bed. This thing has no right to call itself the second cousin of a bed. Hard rock resists your palms and chills you to the bone. Beds are for sleeping. Not for dying. Not until you've lived your life out until it cracks with the strain. You can feel your life hammering in your chest, begging to be lived. To be allowed to live.

He said it would be easy. An effortless nuisance on the way to true power. The only way to win the game. To make yourself a god.

He lied. Your hands are shaking and you can barely breathe.

What did he know? He was dead now, finished. Doubly so. The cold face behind the cursor throwing your belongings out the window, the savage mind behind your team's strategy... was gone, killed in a surprise attack. You found him with a sword through his forehead.

His dream self was butchered in an accident. It was your fault, of course. It haunts you at night, in your now dark, empty dreams. You still wonder if it was really an accident. Maybe you wanted him dead.

You open your strife specibus and look down at your arsenal of paintbrushes and letter openers. You were never the fighting type. Your peaceful nature is fucking things up yet again.

You hate this game. It has laughed in the face of everything in you that you loved, that you struggled to heal. Setting violence on pedestal and forcing you to worship it. This dammed game is forcing you to learn to kill. Or die.

And here's your chance to prove it all. To take your final exam, to take the life that will really get you ahead. Yours.

You pull out a letter opener. It slips from your quaking fingers, bouncing off your leg and clattering on the freezing stone. A single drop of blood beads on your skin and falls, painting a thin line down your leg.

Why can't you just do it? Maybe you're just not strong enough. Maybe there's something wrong with you.

No. There's nothing wrong with you. You fixed yourself, remember? All those nights sitting in your room thinking about a moment like this one. Thinking of the ease and the relief from the emptiness and the pain. You were broken then. You worked so long to feel the urgency of life pounding in your veins and now you have to go back?

He said it wouldn't be permanent. He said you'd come back in a breath. But do you believe him?

You pick up the letter opener and squeeze it in your fingers. You look over to your chat screen. It's empty. Your client player and his fellow dreamer haven't made it to the center of Derse yet.

Maybe they're dead too. Maybe you're really alone.

The chill and the darkness is beginning to creep into your mind. You scan the shadows and try not to see monstrous faces.

You look back down at the letter opener again. You just need to do it. Get it over with. You breathe in and the air shudders in your chest.

Your chat window beeps. You breathe out and your eyes go watery at the edges. You try to hold yourself steady. Turning to answer, you set the letter opener down beside you with a shiver of frantic relief.

backwaterRaptor [BR] began pestering _youthfulCaterwaul_ [ _YC_ ]

BR: are you there?  
BR: please tell me you're okay.  
BR: please...  
BR: please don't be dead.  
 _YC: I'm herE_  
BR: are you okay?  
BR: have you... you know?  
 _YC: No_  
 _YC: Have yoU?_  
BR: no.  
BR: god, this is fucking insane!  
      _YC: YeaH_  
BR: i'm fucking sick of this shit.  
      _YC: Preaching to the choiR_  
BR: um...  
      _YC: WhaT?_  
 _YC: What is iT?_  
BR: i don't know how to say this.  
      _YC: Just spit it out alreadY_  
BR: …  
      _YC: Come oN!_  
 _YC: PleasE_  
BR: tx is dead. jack got her as we trying to get to these quest bed things.  
      _YC: Oh_  
 _YC: But she's still alive on her planet thougH_  
BR: yeah.  
      _YC: Well, that's good at leasT_  
BR: yeah.  
BR: …  
      _YC: What is iT?_  
BR: you know, even though we've had all this freaky shit the game's thrown at us to deal with, i've never really felt this way.  
      _YC: What do you meaN?_  
BR: i'm terrified.  
BR: properly scared here.  
BR: i'm shaking in my boots.  
      _YC: Me toO_  
 _YC: What are we going to dO?_  
BR: i don't know.  
BR: maybe if tx was here i could do it.  
BR: (probably not if i'm being honest with myself.)  
BR: but not anymore.  
BR: i don't think i can do it.  
      _YC: I can't eitheR_  
BR: then what are we going to do?  
      _YC: I don't knoW_  
 _YC: Perhaps we can just waiT_  
BR: yeah?  
      _YC: Surely something will come along and off uS._  
BR: like a pig at the slaughterhouse.  
      _YC: Whatever metaphor makes you feel betteR_  
BR: alright.  
BR: can you hold on for a bit?  
BR: i'm going to try and contact tx.  
     _YC: I'll be herE._  
BR: thanks.  
BR: hang in there.

backwaterRaptor [BR] ceased pestering _youthfulCaterwaul_ [ _YC_ ]

You slump back onto the stone and let your body relax. Waiting. That is something you can do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
